


The Kiss with the Thousand Flavors

by ralsbecket



Series: earth's mightiest heroes [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 50 Types of Kisses, Aunt Peggy Carter, Being Walked In On, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Christmas Fluff, Civil War Fix-It, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Comfort/Angst, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Domestic Disputes, Domestic Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Food as a Metaphor for Love, French Kissing, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Happy Sex, Intimacy, M/M, Mild Language, Morning Kisses, POV Alternating, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers (2012), Romantic Fluff, Song: Candy Store (Faber Drive), Steve Rogers's Birthday, Surprise Kissing, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Uniform Kink, soft steve rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralsbecket/pseuds/ralsbecket
Summary: He had a stupid grin on his face after Tony pulled away, gazing directly into his whiskey-brown eyes. Steve’s confession came out like a breath, “Tony, I think I love you.” And then he kissed him one more time, just because he could.Or, chronicling Steve and Tony's love story through fifty kinds of kisses.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: earth's mightiest heroes [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771900
Comments: 30
Kudos: 55
Collections: Stony*





	1. you make me melt like chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> “I know your love is such a sugar rush and I can never get enough  
> I'm like oh, oh, oh, oh, and I really want more oh, oh, oh, oh,  
> Yeah honey, you're the sweetest thing I've ever seen before  
> I'm like a kid in a candy store”  
> \- Faber Drive ft. iSH, _Candy Store_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 3,836
> 
> A/N: Somewhat plot-driven, if you squint a little. The scenes jump forward a lot. Really just me being self-indulgent and writing about my favorite boys LOL
> 
> Updated 11/30 - Huge thanks to Perlmutt, ChocolateCapCookie, RosaleenBan, Bill Longbow, appleschloss, and Bleakloft for the AMAZING betas and cheers on Chapters 1 and 2!!

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Stark?”

Tony’s entire body jerked in surprise, and Steve had to press his lips together to fight the amused smirk tugging on his lips. The brunet placed a hand over his own chest, giving him a soft glare as he hissed, “Jesus, make some noise when you move! A guy’s got a fuckin’ heart condition.”

Steve muttered a quiet apology, taking another step in his direction. There were still untreated cuts and bruises littering Tony’s skin from the battle; fighting off an alien invasion and tossing a nuke into the portal in the sky hadn’t left him unscathed. Even though the Iron Man suit probably absorbed most of the damage, the way Tony held himself now showed Steve that he had clearly sustained more injuries which he was down-playing.

“ _That_ looks like it hurts,” Steve pointed out firmly, examining Tony’s form. Tony shifted uncomfortably. “You should be in medical.”

“Yeah, been there. Got boring.”

Steve’s brows knitted together. “You just… _left_?”

“What are you gonna do, Rogers? Snitch on me?”

When Steve glanced back to meet Tony’s eyes, he couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. All too quickly the look was gone before he could decipher it, replaced by the playful grin that was most definitely _not_ growing on him.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Tony said, “Good lookin’ out, Cap. If you would be a dear and let Fury –”

“Hey, no, come on.” Steve moved to block his path, raising a hand. He frowned at the shorter man. “As team leader, I can’t in good conscience –”

“ _Team leader_? Are you serious?” Tony scoffed, almost laughing. He sauntered up to Steve, making a point of getting in his face. “Sorry, buddy, I don’t seem to recall _voting_ for you to be –”

The touch was as fast as a blink. Tony had bumped his chest against Steve’s, leaning on the balls of his feet to get to his eye-level and nearly losing balance, but there was no mistaking the accidental brush of Tony’s lips against his own. There was a moment that passed between them, wide eyes flickering to each other’s lips, breaths stuck in their throats, then Tony was pressing their mouths together hard, beard scratching Steve’s skin.

Steve barely had time to close his eyes and lean the slightest bit forward before Tony was pulling away. Steve whispered, “Tony…”

“Medical, yup,” Tony breathed intelligently, hastily, pivoting on his heel and returning the way he came. The deep blush that appeared on the man’s cheeks was hard to miss.

_Well_. Steve instinctively licked his lips, tasting the faintest hint of whisky that Tony had left behind.

~*~*~*~

Tony’s personal art collection had been personally curated by Pepper over the years, bless her heart, but even it didn’t compare to the installations and exhibits that the museums had on display. When they’d reopened that Fall season after the Battle of New York, Pepper pushed him to take Steve; something about exposing him to some form of modernity.

There was only a small number of visitors walking between the galleries, but Tony supposed that’s what it looked like normally in the middle of the week in September. Not that it mattered, because the wonderment lighting up Steve’s face was something he wanted to keep entirely for himself.

“I didn’t have the money for MoMA when it first opened up,” Steve had revealed as they walked around the renewed museum. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his brown leather jacket. “But see, around ’35, uh, my best friend Bucky saved up enough money working the docks for the two of us. It was neat. The Van Gogh collection was pretty new back then, a hundred oil paintings and sketches and letters from abroad…”

Tony kept quiet as they walked in-step with one another, but he couldn’t stop his mouth from blurting out, “Weren’t you color blind?” And then, immediately after: “Sorry, _sorry_. That was –”

A low grumble came from the blond, resembling a chuckle (a sound which Tony _so desperately_ wanted to hear again). “Yeah, I was. Bucky always gave me crap for it, too.”

Steve was inspecting the placards hanging on the walls, names of film series exhibited for a short run. He stopped in front of one of the media lounges before ducking behind the dark curtains. Tony read _MoMA Premiere: Ira Sachs’s_ _‘Keep the Lights On’_ written above a summary on the sign as he followed behind Steve.

It was surprisingly dark in the room, the only source of light coming from the movie being projected onto the wall in front of him. Tony’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, registering the silhouettes of about six other museumgoers before finding Steve sitting at the very back, face illuminated slightly.

They must have come by right in the middle of the screening. The characters were in some sort of intervention, one of them reading off a very emotional letter to who he assumed was the man’s boyfriend.

“What’s this about?” Tony whispered, leaning closer to the super-soldier.

“A filmmaker and a lawyer, I think?” Steve replied just as quietly, eyes not leaving the moving pictures. (Tony pretended the goosebumps rising on his skin didn’t come from Steve’s breath caressing his ear.) Quietly, Steve added, “Those two guys are in a relationship. The sign said they ‘start building a home together and continue privately battling their own compulsions and addictions’.”

“That’s a little morbid for a romance.” Tony turned his head toward him, catching his expression. Steve was wide-eyed, the ghost of a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth from Tony’s quip. He seemed at peace, relieved if anything.

“Y’know, back in my day, we weren’t so good about being open like that,” Steve said under his breath. “Love like that stayed behind closed doors, but now… I’m really glad it’s different.” He turned then, meeting Tony’s stare. The air between them felt immediately charged.

Tony usually disliked direct eye contact because of how weirdly _intimate_ it was, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away. If he had, he probably never would have noticed the rods of green in Steve’s blue eyes. If he had, he never would have noticed how Steve swallowed when Tony’s gaze fell down to his lips.

Tony watched Steve lightly pull his bottom lip between his teeth before thinking, _Fuck, I want to pull his lip between my teeth_ , in spite of being in a room of total strangers sitting in darkness.

Their second kiss – because that’s what it was, _holy shit_ – was just Steve’s soft mouth pressed lightly over Tony’s. Innocent, unsure, but enough to stir the butterflies in his stomach that he had thought were long gone. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first. Maybe it was him, or maybe it was Steve, but it didn’t matter because Steve tasted like mint, fresh and sweet and cool.

Tony needed to thank Pepper for suggesting the museum visits. She deserved a fruit basket (sans strawberries; he’d made that mistake before), or maybe a raise. Definitely a raise.

~*~*~*~

When Happy pulled up in front of Steve’s apartment complex in Brooklyn, Tony started saying his goodbyes. Feeling generously chivalrous, he leaned over Steve to reach for the door handle.

Suddenly, Steve’s hand was at the nape of his neck. Tony’s brain abruptly short-circuited when Steve kissed him.

Just kissed him, unprompted. A quick peck of the lips that still managed to steal his breath away somehow. Tony’s cheeks burned as he stuttered, “That wasn’t… I-I, um, well… I was reaching for the… d-door…”

“You… you _weren’t_ leaning in for…?” Steve’s eyes widened slightly; he immediately turned red from his ears all the way down to his neck, clearly embarrassed. He opened his mouth (probably to apologize), but Tony cut him off before he could.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly, giving Steve a small smile with his brows drawn up. “I’ll, uh, see you Saturday?”

“Right,” said Steve under his breath, “Saturday.”

It seemed like Steve couldn’t scramble out of the car fast enough. He thanked Tony and Happy awkwardly, almost running up the short flight of stairs in an attempt to get away from the mortifying situation. Tony simply watched him with an amused smile, waving cheekily when Steve threw one last look over his shoulder.

Happy was staring at his boss with wide eyes and a knowing smirk when he faced forward. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror, and Tony glared. “What?”

“Did you just kiss Captain America?”

“Eyes forward, Hogan. I don’t pay you to be a gossip.”

~*~*~*~

Steve thought that Tony tested the waters too much. Steve thought that Tony took too many risks. Steve _also_ thought that wearing baseball caps and sunglasses weren’t great disguises either, but the two of them made it into the movie theatre without anyone recognizing them and immediately blowing their covers.

He was a little intimidated by the amount of food options at the concession stands these days – ice cream bites, chicken fingers, French fries, gourmet mac and cheeses. What happened to a good old-fashioned popcorn and candy bar? And the _prices_ , seriously –

“What’s got your gears turning, Cap?” Tony questioned jokingly, pulling him from his thoughts. “You have this almost… dare I say, _constipated_ look on your otherwise handsomely stoic face.”

Steve rolled his eyes, holding the warm tub of buttered popcorn closer to his chest. “Shut up,” he huffed, following the shorter man to where the public drink dispensers stood tall.

With a subdued laugh, Tony made a beeline for a machine with bright rainbow colors. The word “Icee” was plastered all over the front in ice blocks. Steve watched with raised brows as Tony stuck his twenty-ounce cup under it, tugging on the lever and letting some kind of blue slush run free.

“What’s an…?”

“Icee,” Tony supplied, reaching for a clear plastic cover. “It’s basically a frozen drink, like a slushed snow cone. Just ice, syrup, and probably a lot more sugar than is recommended for human consumption.” He stuck a red straw through the opening before taking a big pull. “It also stains your mouth blue.”

Steve let out a surprised, “Oh, so just like a melted Penny Sunday.”

“Yeah. I think. Let’s go with that.” He slipped his sunglasses off of his face and moved them to rest atop the bill of his hat, giving Steve a half-smile as he drank more of the blue slush. “Wanna try?” he offered.

Steve bowed his head to lean for the straw, but Tony instead caught him with a kiss. He swiped his tongue over Steve’s lips, licking into his mouth. Steve sighed into it, recognizing the undeniable taste of _Tony_ under the syrupy sweetness of artificial blue raspberry.

~*~*~*~

Tony’s head was spinning from the constant lack of oxygen flowing to his brain – or maybe it was spinning because Steve was kissing him stupid. They were already half-undressed at this point, random articles of clothing littering a path from the couch to his bedroom.

Steve’s fingers were gripping at his hair, just on the edge of painful, pulling the filthiest moans from him. Tony was pressed firmly against the mattress, trapped between the cool sheets and Steve’s absolutely sinful body.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to stop the kiss, pushing against Steve’s shoulders, to ask seriously, “Do you want to do this?”

Was it a bit late to be asking? Probably a little. But on God, Tony _wanted_ this. For the first time, he was embracing the unknown and jumping in feet first because he wanted _Steve._

Steve, who wasn’t afraid to look him in the eyes. Steve, who was smiling down at him without an ounce of remorse on his face. Steve, whose only response was to kiss him again, hands holding his face as he deepened it. Their kiss was all teeth biting at lips and tongues smoothing them over.

Tony all but gasped when one of Steve’s cold hands slipped under his shirt, fingers pressing patterns along Tony’s skin as they slid up to trace the circumference of the Arc Reactor, his touch incredibly light around the mess of scars.

There was moment of pause, brown eyes meeting blue ones. Tony read the unspoken question of _Is this okay?_ on Steve’s face before he pulled his own shirt over his head.

It was okay. It was _more_ than okay. It was Tony finally tearing down the walls he’d built up over the years. It was Tony trusting Steve, showing him just that by way of surging forward and pulling him into a searing kiss.

The taste of coconut and dark chocolate lingered on Tony’s tongue.

~*~*~*~

Steve padded down the steps barefoot, frowning. He entered his access code on the cool glass when the security keypad popped up, sighing as he entered the workshop. With how loudly the heavy rock music was being blasted through the speakers, it was obvious Tony was in the middle of an inventing binge.

“Tony, why are you still up?” No reaction. “Tony, you need to – JARVIS, shut off the music!”

“Very well, Captain _._ ”

The volume lowered until the only sounds in the garage-turned-workshop were of the automated machines whirring in the corner.

“JARVIS, what gives? I was –” Tony caught sight of Steve from his periphery, smiled sheepishly, and then called over his shoulder, “Oh, no. It’s that _look_ ; I’m in trouble.”

The blond rested his hands on his pajama-clad hips, giving his signature _Captain America Disapproves of This_ look to his boyfriend. “Tony, I don’t enjoy sounding like a broken record.”

“Yeah, Steve, sorry, I know,” he muttered distractedly, returning his focus to the table hologram. He used a stylus and his free hand to reorient a digital blueprint for what was presumably a new Iron Man design. Tony stole a glance in Steve’s direction, eyes moving over his body. “I’ll be up in a few.”

Steve sucked on his teeth as he walked up behind Tony, draping his arms over his shoulders and leaning his chin on top of his head. “You said that hours ago, when I asked the first time.”

“I did _no_ such thing.”

“Sir,” JARVIS piped up, “you did in fact tell Captain Rogers that you would be retiring to your bedroom at half-past –”

“Really, J? You fucking traitor.” Tony slumped back against Steve’s chest, pouting. He shouted up at the ceiling, “I wasn’t kidding about donating you to a city college!”

He felt the corners of his lips turn up in a smile as he pressed a light kiss to Tony’s hair. “Come to bed,” Steve said, shifting his hands up to the brunet’s arms. He leaned down to kiss his shoulder.

“Fifteen minutes,” Tony bargained half-heartedly, readjusting himself on the stool.

Steve narrowed his eyes, taking it as a challenge. He was a master strategist, goddamn it, and he was going to use it to his advantage. His lips made quick work of Tony’s exposed neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses from his shoulder to just below his jaw. He sucked at the sensitive spot behind his ear, smiling to himself when Tony’s back arched and he leaned into the feeling.

There was a sharp intake of breath before – “Fuck – _okay_ , you win” – and Tony was swiping away his designs. Steve moaned when Tony turned around and kissed him, fingers twisting into his hair and tugging hard. 

~*~*~*~

Tony fell onto the mat in the boxing ring with a loud _smack_ and a choked groan, incapable of hiding the wince on his face. Steve was grinning above him and looking like a fucking Adonis – blond hair gone rogue and skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to, trapped with Steve’s knees on either side of him.

“You know,” said Tony breathing heavily, blinking up at his boyfriend, “when I said I’d let you break my back any time you wanted, I didn’t mean it like _this_.”

Steve laughed, his smile widening while his eyes crinkled at the corners. Tony smiled back, his chest filling with a kind of warmth that he couldn’t quite place. For the briefest a moment, he worried something was wrong with the Arc Reactor again.

But then Steve was slotting his mouth to his, the kiss breathless and tired and sweaty. The warmth spread from his chest to the ends of his limbs, and Tony realized it was _affection_ running through him. He cupped Steve’s face, pulling him closer as he chased the taste of tangerines against his tongue.

~*~*~*~

Steve felt Tony shift under the blanket, and suddenly he felt eyes staring at the back of his head. There were a few tense moments before the genius started to speak. “Honey, we shouldn’t go to bed mad at each other.”

“I’m not mad at you!” _Fuck._ He sure did sound like it. Steve sighed in exasperation, turning around to face an apologetic-looking Tony. “I’m not mad,” he said again, softer now, moving to sit up just like Tony was. “Honestly, I’m just –” _Disappointed that you didn’t request me back from my mission when a terrorist destroyed your house, and you nearly got yourself killed at least twice._

Instead, he demanded, “Why didn’t you call me? I had to find out from the _news_ that you went missing.”

Tony’s eyes darted to the side; guilt spread over his face. He stared out the windows overlooking the New York skyline. “Fury said you were on blackout and I shouldn’t –”

“Bullshit,” Steve sneered. “What has _ever_ stopped you from disobeying Fury’s orders?”

“I had a _handle_ on it. I got Pepper, I got the President, and the shitheads in charge are either dead or in prison.” Tony’s brows furrowed together in frustration. “I’m Iron Man, for fuck’s sake. I don’t always need your spangly ass saving my –”

“Would you not think about yourself for one _goddamn_ second!?” he spat out angrily. Steve took in a shaky breath, feeling his resolve falter. His bottom lip started to quiver as the tears sprung to his eyes. “You almost died, and I wouldn’t have…” Voice wrought with emotion, he managed a weak, “I couldn’t protect you, just like I couldn’t protect Bucky.”

Sudden realization dawned on Tony’s face, followed by a slew of other things washing over his features. He reached up to brush his thumb over the rogue tear that slipped down Steve’s cheek. “Oh, Steve…”

“Don’t _do_ that to me, okay?” Steve said in a voice just above a whisper, trying to regain his composure. The corners of his lips tugged downwards anyway.

Tony grabbed Steve’s face between his hands. They looked at each other for a few heartbeats, sharing a silent conversation. He was warm, alive, breathing right in front of him. He was safe, safer now with Steve beside him.

“Kiss me,” Tony said breathlessly.

There was a flare of determination sparking behind his eyes, a look that Steve immediately drew into. Their lips met in a harsh kiss, finesse and subtlety be damned. They poured everything into it: their worry, doubts, affection. Tony leaned his weight forward, pushing Steve back into the plush pillows and leaving wet kisses along the column of his throat.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Tony pressed his lips against the heavy thrum of his pulse. “I promise.”

~*~*~*~

“I – hate – you.”

“Just two more miles, sweetheart.”

“No. Fuck you.”

“Quit yapping. I’d save my energy if you’re so –” Steve slowed into a light jog, pivoting around just in time to see Tony double over with his hands on his knees, shoulders slumped as he tried to catch his breath. His brown hair was matted with sweat against his forehead.

Like the drama queen he was, Tony took two steps off the path and threw himself onto the grass. He sprawled his limbs out, a look of pain spreading across his features. “ _Steve_ ,” he whined loudly, throwing an arm over his eyes. “ _Honey_. Everything _hurts_.”

Steve snorted out a laugh, letting his chin hit his chest. He shook his head as he walked a few paces forward, secretly welcoming the cool shade that the tall trees provided. Squatting beside Tony’s head, he said, “I know you can make the last two miles, Tones.”

“We’re not all built like super-soldiers, y’know.” He frowned with a pout on his lips.

“Sweetheart –”

“Just leave me here to _die_.”

He scoffed, “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“Stevie, my _pains_ have pains!”

His heart swelled at the use of the nickname. He smiled, moving to lie down on the grass beside the brunet. “Will kisses make it better?” Steve teased, his eyes falling half-lidded as he stared down at his boyfriend.

Tony peeked an eye at him, raising an eyebrow. Steve leaned forward on his forearms, craning his neck to press a chaste kiss to Tony’s mouth. A pleasant sensation settled in his chest as he continued to pepper short kisses against his lips, feeling Tony’s pout melt away into a cheeky grin.

“You taste like Jolly Ranchers.” Tony pulled back slightly, enough to mutter the words against Steve’s lips. “Must _really_ be working the ‘Old Man’ stereotype.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

~*~*~*~

Tony was never going to get tired of waking up next to Steve. He was never going to get tired of _Steve_. He loved the ocean-blue of Steve’s eyes, the curl of his lip when he smiled, the kindness of his heart, and most recently, the absolute filth that would come from his not-so-innocent mouth (eat your heart out, America).

At the same time, it scared him a little. He was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Tony wasn’t good at relationships – let alone _feelings_ , which Rhodey and Pepper could vouch for – but with Steve it was different. Even after their worst days, all he had to do was bat those thick lashes at him in the mornings, and things were okay again.

It was one of those few idle days when neither of them had meetings or other immediate responsibilities, and they could be content with just lazing in bed until noon came around. Steve watched Tony quietly, head pillowed on his forearms as he laid on his stomach. Tony was tracing the outline of his mouth with the tip of his finger, grazing over his soft lips and following the curve of his cupid’s bow.

Tony’s thumb swiped across his bottom lip, and Steve pressed a soft kiss to it. He smiled then, hooking a finger under his chin and tilting his head up; Tony leaned forward and kissed Steve like a man dying of thirst.

He had a stupid grin on his face after Tony pulled away, gazing directly into his whiskey-brown eyes. Steve’s confession came out like a breath, “Tony, I think I love you.”

And then he kissed him one more time, just because he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was looking at actual past MoMA exhibits from 2012 just to put them in the story but came across _Keep the Lights On_ accidentally, [here's the trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_RNbeCpMsM) if y'all are interested!
> 
> Also, I should've been writing other things but this took on a life of its own! Also I love my boys, so I had to. If you want the list: [50 types of kissing prompts](https://kashimalin-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/178524845380/50-types-of-kisses-writing-prompts) on tumblr


	2. your love is such a sugar rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 3,895
> 
> A/N: Just need to give my betas and cheerers from the last chapter another shout-out because _I love y'all_

Steve woke up feeling extremely warm, and it wasn’t until he blinked his eyes open that he realized why: He was tucked against Tony’s side as they lay on the sofa. Tony had an arm around his shoulders and was absentmindedly drawing invisible patterns on his arm. There was a distinctly warm color of afternoon light filtering in through the blinds, and he figured he must have fallen asleep while watching the television.

Tony seemed focused on the tablet propped on his knee, but Steve stole his attention when he shifted to hug his waist, humming contentedly as he pressed closer. Steve nudged the bridge of his nose against Tony’s jawline, leaving light butterfly kisses against his cheek and scruff with his eyelashes. “Hi,” Steve murmured sleepily, planting a quick kiss on Tony’s neck.

“Hi,” Tony chuckled, tilting his head down to press his lips against the tip of Steve’s nose.

~*~*~*~

“Dinner’s ready,” Steve’s voice called from over his shoulder. Tony hadn’t heard him enter the workshop; he was so focused on a new prototype widget for SI.

“Thanks, honey,” Tony replied, brows knitted together as he continued lasering on the board. “Don’t wait for me, I’ll probably be a while.”

“Oh, I know.”

His eyes then flickered to the large plate of food that his boyfriend set down on the far side of the workbench; roasted green beans and garlic mashed potatoes doused in gravy. The seasoned smell of medium-rare steak wafted up his nostrils. Steve pressed a soft kiss to his temple, resting a light hand on the brunet’s shoulder.

The genius set his tools down, his hands dropping to lay on his lap. He turned on the stool to face Steve, meeting his gaze with an easy-going smile and a full heart. Tony raised a hand to Steve’s cheek, stroking his thumb across Steve’s soft lips. He drew him into a kiss, unhurried and full of truly profound adoration.

The corners of Tony’s lips bowed upwards as he broke contact, pulling a hair’s breadth away to whisper against Steve’s mouth, “I love you so much.”

Steve’s eyes widened at that, mouth going slack upon hearing the words pass the other’s lips. But a broad grin replaced his expression, and Tony saw the joy reach his blue eyes. He whispered, “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”

“I love you,” Tony said again, louder, leaning forward once more to press a sweet kiss to Steve’s lips. He tugged him forward by the waist, drawing him in between his knees. The words were like a mantra now falling off his tongue, punctuated by each kiss. “I love you.”

Steve leaned his forehead against Tony’s, with tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. “I love you, too.”

~*~*~*~

Steve knew that he couldn’t get drunk off of anything, but Tony Stark was apparently a particular brand that could do it for him. And on God, Steve would willingly drown in him if he were able to.

It was his hands tugging at his hair; his spicy clean cologne filling his lungs; his sinful mouth leaving harsh bruises against his neck that would heal too quickly; his skilled tongue pushing against his, mapping out every part of his mouth, tracing every pearly white tooth as if he was trying his damnedest to memorize them.

The taste of Tony’s cinnamon mouthwash made his lips tingle, and a deep ache stirred in his gut when the brunet rolled his hips against him, straddling his lap on the driver’s seat of his sports car still parked in the Tower’s private underground parking garage. Steve’s hands kneaded the backs of Tony’s thighs, pulling him closer as the thought of food was shoved away to the back of his mind.

(If he ever got his head back on straight, he would remind Tony to cancel their dinner reservation.)

Steve remembered how it started: a sensual kiss with Tony’s hand at his neck, and then his grip was light around his throat, and Steve _moaned_. Tony climbed from the passenger seat and onto his lap with almost no hesitance, reaching for the lever to push his seat back to make room.

Tony pulled away from his mouth with a wet smack, a thin line of spit still connecting them. Steve’s breathless pants turned into a bellowing laugh when Tony leaned back to pull his jacket and shirt off, his ass hitting the steering wheel and blasting the car’s horn, which echoed loudly through the garage.

~*~*~*~

Tony exited the front doors that faced Vanderbilt Avenue, throwing a kind wave to their doorman. There were still many people walking outside, despite the rain that was slowly picking up. Happy walked with him, holding a large umbrella and shielding them from the heavy drizzle as they crossed the sidewalk to where the car sat parked on the curb.

He was halfway into the back seat when he caught sight of a familiar, bulky figure with a mop of blond hair jogging in their direction, completely soaked to the bone. Tony straightened up, leaning an arm against the door. “Steve! What the hell are you doing?”

The blond zeroed in on him, hastening up his jog. His sneakers, which were obviously drenched, squished and squeaked as he approached. Steve ducked under the refuge of the tiny umbrella, panting, “Went out for my run.”

“It’s kind of, well, _wet_ , Cap,” Happy inserted, giving him a look.

“Thanks, Happy, didn’t notice.” Steve rolled his eyes, wiping the droplets from his face. “It was barely cloudy out when I left for the park,” he explained.

Tony leaned his full weight against the door, resting both hands on top of the door, avoiding the running street water at his feet. He tried not to look down at Steve’s perky nipples, straining against his dry-fit shirt. “You went around to Bryant?”

“No, I did a couple laps around Central Park,” Steve said as he shook his head, as if it was nothing. As if _running twelve miles_ around a park _two miles away_ was nothing. For a super-soldier like him, maybe it was.

Tony was just barely able to mask his shock.

Happy raised his free arm, looking down to the watch on his wrist. “Boss, we need to leave. You’re already late, and I sort of don’t want to face the wrath of Pepper today.”

“Right, right, yeah.” Tony ran a hand through his tousled hair before craning his head forward to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss, tasting of rain and a little bit of his morning shake. (Blueberries. Tony loved blueberries.) “Now get inside and change before you get sick,” he ordered lamely, realizing a second too late that _no, Steve won’t actually get sick ever again_.

“Way ahead of you,” he replied, smiling. Steve left another peck on Tony’s lips before clapping Happy on the shoulder, stepping out into the rain again before entering the lobby of Avengers Tower.

~*~*~*~

As the team walked through the main courtyard of SHIELD’s headquarters, all Steve could focus on was how warm Tony’s hand felt in his, fingers laced together like they were made for each other. Natasha and Clint were talking about Director Fury requesting their assistance with some recon and science expertise, and though Steve tried, it all went in one ear and out the other.

Ahead of them, Bruce pulled open one of the glass doors to the building, smiling slightly with his lips pressed together. Steve huffed a quiet “thanks” as he followed behind Tony, who tugged on his arm when he fell behind as the others power-walked through the bustling lobby.

Steve caught Natasha saying, “Hill and Fury are waiting for us in the conference room,” as she checked the tablet in her hand. She looked back as she added, “Banner, you and Stark are to head up to the lab immediately for a consult. Fill you in later.”

“ _Fun_ ,” Bruce sighed sarcastically, fidgeting with the watch on his left wrist. “At least this one can’t be worse than the last.”

Tony countered, smirking, “Not worse than consulting on a magic cube, then having to save New York from said magic cube?” He let go of Steve’s hand, stepping closer to Bruce and throwing an arm over his shoulders. “Your blind optimism astounds me, Jolly Green. We’re talking SHIELD here.”

Steve needed a lot of mental strength to keep himself from rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics, but he managed. However, he hadn’t realized that the two men had peeled away from their group and begun to trudge up the main staircase until Tony was already half-way up the stairs.

“Tony,” he huffed, calling after him. Tony stopped mid-stride, frowning.

“Yeah, babe?” The genius turned on the steps, looking down at the super-soldier with a raised brow. Steve only blinked at him, jutting his bottom lip out in a childish pout. Tony’s head tilted forward as his lips curled up in a smile, and he descended a few steps to reach him again.

It was times like this that made Steve’s heart sing, now that Tony wasn’t afraid to showcase some public displays of affection. Tony took advantage of their inverted height difference to angle the blond’s head up, meeting his mouth in a quick peck. A syrupy grin appeared on Steve’s face, a soft hum coming from the back of his throat. “I love you, Shellhead,” he confessed, and he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest at how airy his voice had sounded.

“I love you too, ya big dope,” Tony teased, planting a firmer kiss on him before turning on his heel and following Bruce to the upper laboratory floor.

Steve stood in his spot for another few moments, a smile fixed on his lips as he not-very-subtly admired Tony’s backside. He hated to see him go, but he could admit that he loved to watch him leave.

“You are _so_ whipped,” Clint remarked in jest, stifling a snicker as the three of them continued down the corridor.

~*~*~*~

The waiter had come by twice already to refill his glass of water, asking if he was ready to order. Steve had looked around the restaurant one more time before sighing and choosing a random appetizer on the incredibly fancy menu – which, in his opinion, was greatly lacking photos. If he shrunk further down into his seat afterwards, that was nobody’s business.

He’d decided on his order some twenty minutes ago, but he continued to peruse the menu in his hands because he felt awkward sitting alone at the table. Of course, he knew that Tony was late to things all the time – board meetings, tech conventions, and public hearings in front of the Senate, to name a few – but he’d never been late to meet Steve on a date before. A date that _he_ had planned.

After a few more minutes, however, Steve finally caught a head of dark hair peeking above the corner divider, headed in his direction. Tony popped up in his periphery, wearing a light pink hoodie under his unbuttoned suit jacket and matching slacks. “Honey, I am _so_ fucking sorry.”

Steve looked up at Tony as he approached, accepting a short kiss in greeting as he rounded the table and slid into the seat opposite. He ran a hand through his dark wind-swept hair (it was longer now, great to get his fingers lost in) while the other picked up the menu. “There was a malware issue with the security today,” he began in a rush, scanning the food items, “and Pepper just about ripped a new one in one of my poor IT guys. I was adequately terrified _and_ horny at the same time.”

The blond couldn’t help but smile as he asked, “Why’s your hair a mess?”

“Huh?” Tony flattened his hair out a bit more, taking a second to let the question sink in. “Oh. I flew the suit when I realized I was going to be late. But I was anyway, and I just –” He took a deep breath, setting the menu down, and then smiled when his eyes met Steve’s. “Thank you for waiting,” he said sincerely.

And how could Steve possibly stay mad at Tony when he was smiling as sweet as that?

~*~*~*~

“…We’ll manage. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Tony had his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, focused on his computer as he mapped out a flight itinerary. “We’ll only be there for a few days, so I’m hoping she’s lucid for some of it.”

“ _Have you even told him yet?_ ” the voice on the other side of the line inquired.

“No, but I –”

He looked up just in time to see Steve walk in through the door of his office, wearing his new specially designed, SHIELD-issued tactical suit. Tony’s higher brain functions almost stopped entirely when the blond threw him a cheeky grin.

Tony had to take a moment to recover before returning the smile. “I’ll tell him right now,” he replied, saying a quick goodbye to Sharon Carter. He set his phone down before rummaging through a drawer in his large desk. To his boyfriend, he said, “Stevie, I have a surprise for you.”

Steve raised a questioning brow as he walked around the desk, leaning against the edge of it as Tony handed him an envelope. A look of confusion washed over Steve’s face as he stared down at the boarding passes. “Why are we going to London?”

Tony responded cryptically, feeling the butterflies settle in his stomach. “For someone’s birthday.” This could go one of two ways, and even then, he wasn’t sure which reaction he’d get out of Steve. He was often touchy when it came to things from his past.

Panic flashed in the super-soldier’s eyes before confusion replaced it once more. “Your birthday isn’t… until next month, though?” he said, more of a question than a statement.

“I didn’t say it was _mine_.”

Tony watched as the gears whirred in Steve’s head, almost like he was racking through his brain to figure out whose birthday he was forgetting.

“The only person I know with a birthday in April was…” Steve trailed off slowly, his wide eyes panning up to meet Tony’s. As his blue orbs glistened with tears, realization dawned on him. “Are we…?”

“I figured it was about time we visited Aunt Peggy,” Tony said softly. “I know how much you –”

The next second, Steve had pulled him up by his shirt collar, smashing their mouths together in a harsh kiss. _This_ was a reaction he hadn’t expected. It was all tongue and teeth and hands, and Tony could taste the salty tears that slipped down Steve’s cheeks through it all.

~*~*~*~

“Anthony, you’re looking more and more like Howard every day.”

Tony’s face scrunched up into a grimace. He looked like he’d just bitten into a sour lemon, and it made Steve snort out a laugh. “Oh, _God_. Low blow, Aunt Pegs.”

Peggy giggled into her cup of tea, the corners of her eyes creasing with a smile. She took a sip before replacing the cup on the small coffee table between them, tugging the thick knit blanket on her lap closer.

Today was a good day for her, and Steve was grateful for it. She’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years ago, and according to her family, it could sometimes get really bad. Tony had tried to prepare Steve was much as he could, because she didn’t even recognize her own children sometimes. He hadn’t witnessed that personally, because he hadn’t visited in a long time, but their families remained close even after his parents died.

Peggy was as sharp today as she was back during the war; the moment he and Tony came into the room to greet her, there was a twinkle in her eye. When they sat on the couch across from her, leaving a good foot of space between them after a teary reunion, she’d asked, “How long have you been courting one another?”

She had the audacity to laugh when the two of them shared a look and started sputtering out denials, adding, “Come off it. I’ve been alive ninety-two years now. One learns to recognize pure love when they see it.”

“You’re not… mad?” Tony’s voice was quiet. Steve realized that he needed her blessing just as much as Steve did.

“Nonsense! I could _never_ be mad at either of you boys,” she answered with her whole heart.

They had fallen straight into their old conversations as if the last seventy years hadn’t separated them, reminiscing on the high points of war and answering Tony’s questions, when he wasn’t sitting quietly, enthralled. Sharing stories and jokes and easing Steve’s misplaced guilt.

An amused smile played on his lips as Peggy recalled stories of Tony during his boarding school years, the kind of trouble his mother Maria said that he’d gotten into even before attending MIT.

“In my defense, I _was_ nine-years-old.” The genius rarely blushed, but his face was tomato-red with embarrassment at the mention of his old Captain America pajamas.

Tony’s hand was warm in his, his thumb moving over Steve’s knuckles. Steve was satisfied with listening to Tony as he spoke with Peggy, tracing his profile with his eyes and staring at his mouth as he did so. For the first time in a long time, Steve was overflowing with contentment, just being in the room with the two of them.

He raised their intertwined hands, laying a gentle kiss to the back of his boyfriend’s hand. Tony turned his head mid-sentence, shooting him a dazzling smile without missing a beat.

~*~*~*~

Tony had seen Steve in everything and in nothing. Tony had seen him wearing wonderfully tailored suits to public gatherings, donning form-fitting stealth uniforms during missions, and lounging in grey sweats and hoodies in their living room. But seeing Steve wear his old Army uniform, newly pressed and shiny with his medals, hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist like it did… _Jesus_ , did that sight do something to Tony.

“You’re drooling. It’s weird.”

“What? No, I’m not.” Tony grazed the corners of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, just in case. In response to the muted snicker beside him, he snapped under his breath, “Fuck you, Barton.”

“You’ve been staring at Steve for – I’m not even joking – twelve minutes straight.”

“And _I’m_ the weird one?” he retorted, voice going up an octave.

Clint shrugged, taking a swig from his chilled glass of whiskey. “What else is a guy to do at this stupid thing? Rub elbows with old white guys?”

“They don’t call it the White House for nothing,” Bruce put in seriously, cracking a smile when Natasha fought to keep her face expressionless.

“Speaking of old white guys, Steve seems to be fitting right in,” Clint pointed out, tossing a nod over to where the blond was surrounded by star-struck state senators.

They were chatting him up with fake smiles and less-than burning questions. Tony couldn’t really hear what anyone was saying from across the ballroom which was still buzzing with numerous other voices, and while Steve kept a bright smile on his face, he could tell from his body language that he was, in fact, not ‘fitting right in.’

Natasha made a sound of disapproval, eyes narrowing as she followed his gaze. “He look uncomfortable to anyone else?”

Bruce agreed. “I’d be too, if everyone was coming up to me and bringing up the most traumatic things to ever happen in my life.”

That was it, then. Tony left his drink to the high table that they all stood around, fixing his cufflinks and straightening out his suit. “I’m gonna go save him,” he announced, plastering on a wide smile as he made his way across the room. When he stepped beside Steve and placed a comforting hand to the small of his back, he felt the tension in Steve’s body ease away under his palm.

The genius slipped into their conversation seamlessly, working his charm on senators like Cherryh, who’d been kind to him on the political front, while throwing out some back-handed compliments to the ones like Stern, who’d once crucified him for privatizing world peace.

“It was a joy to catch up with everyone,” Tony said as he began to wrap up his good-byes. “Unfortunately, Mr. President wanted a word with our dear Capsicle and sent me to fetch him. Excuse us.”

Tony hooked his arm with Steve’s, leading him away from the small group of rabid senators to a secluded corner just outside of the frenzied ballroom. It was noticeably quieter there, and Steve all but sagged against the wall when he was finally able to.

“That was _the worst_ ,” he grumbled, frowning for a moment before composing himself.

Tony grinned sympathetically, reaching up to card his fingers through Steve’s blond hair. “That bad?”

“It was like they were all trying to one-up each other over who was the most likely to get run out of office.” Steve closed his eyes, leaning into his touch and sighing. He raised a hand, wrapping his fingers lightly around Tony’s wrist. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“I’m not your knight in literal shining armor for nothing,” Tony teased, grinning the way he knew made Steve weak at the knees.

“How can I ever repay you?” Steve worried, faux concern dripping from his words.

“Oh, my love, I can think of a _few_ ideas.” Tony’s eyes hovered at Steve’s lips, full and red and calling out to him, before leaning in to capture them in a kiss. He felt Steve’s hand slide up his front before his fingers twisted in his tie, pulling their bodies closer.

Steve licked into his mouth, unafraid of being caught in their secret little corner. Tony’s mind went reeling at the taste of the peanut butter-topped dessert served earlier at dinner.

~*~*~*~

Tony had both hands splayed out flat on the kitchen counter as he leaned forward, staring blankly at the straining dark liquid that gave him life. He was half-awake, teetering on the edge of exhaustion with a maddening headache pounding through his brain. R&D project deadlines had crept up on him and DUM-E had sprayed him with a fire extinguisher when he’d nodded off and accidentally set one of the circuit boards on fire at three in the morning. At this point, his sole personality trait was crankiness.

Tony was almost feral in the mornings without his coffee (unless he’d just finished a 72-hour bender, because that was a _whole_ other story). After nearly two years of dating and learning each other’s quirks, Steve had quickly learned not to expect much out of Tony while he was waiting for a new pot to finish brewing in the morning.

Steve’s entirely too chipper “Morning, sweetheart!” was greeted by a rough grunt of acknowledgement. Tony picked up on a soft laugh before even softer lips grazed his cheek, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his jaw, down his neck. When Steve’s strong arms snaked around his waist, the tension in Tony’s shoulders seemed to dissipate. He rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder, quiet and content with just holding the man in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just for timeline context, this chapter was set in 2013. Also, comments give me life! Let me know how it's going so far (and fangirl with me over how in love these two idiots are with each other oml)


	3. life saver, you're my life saver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 4,270
> 
> A/N: Many thanks to Perlmutt and Bleakloft for the cheers, ChocolateCapCookie and the home-skillet chucks_prophet for the betas once again!!
> 
> Warning for semi-Civil War discourse and ultra sad angst. This chapter's set post-TWS (early 2014) and pre-CW (early 2016).

Every person that Tony passed in the hospital took one good look at him and immediately averted their eyes. With knitted brows and a mouth pressed into a hard line, he looked like he was on the warpath. The guards standing outside of Steve’s private room in the more closed-off part of the hospital exchanged a glance when he approached, but neither of them got in his way when he barged through the door.

Tony stood in the doorframe, his jaw clenching and unclenching as two heads whipped in his direction. The grip Tony had on his leather jacket was so tight that he could almost hear it strain in his grasp.

A few seconds, which felt like an entire hour, passed in silence before Steve gathered his wits, blinking between his boyfriend and the man seated beside him. “Um. Tony, this is –”

“Sam Wilson, yeah, hi, Nat briefed me about your _exciting_ few days with my better half,” Tony grit out sarcastically, eyes not leaving Steve’s. Managing to rein in his anger, he said sincerely, “Wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

“Right.” And because Sam was smart, he knew well enough when he wasn’t wanted. He got to his feet, giving a weak, “I’ll drop by tomorrow,” to Steve before awkwardly squeezing past Tony, leaving the two other men alone.

For a few moments, neither man spoke. Tony stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind him with an uncharacteristically gentle hand. It was so silent that they could hear the _snick_ from the doorknob. He breathed in deeply before turning around to face Steve again. A harsh huff left Tony’s nose when he examined the state Steve was in – face battered and bruised and stitched up, skin littered with angry reds, purples, and yellows.

Steve’s first words to Tony were: “I… I thought you were in Germany,” and it took everything in him not to respond automatically with a biting reply. Heat coursed through his veins, and he wasn’t exactly sure what spurred it on.

“I _was_ in Germany,” Tony began, smiling bitterly. He waved his hand in a dramatic fashion as he stepped towards the bed. “I _was_ in the middle of a dinner with Gorani Insurance when everyone’s phones lit up with notifications that _you_ , sir, had gone all Rambo on not one – not _two_ – but _three_ Helicarriers, which are sitting real pretty in the Potomac.”

Steve argued, sitting up with a painful wince. “They were going to kill _millions_ , Tony! Including you! HYDRA were going to – to –” His jaw trembled (barely, though Tony noticed), but a determined expression still washed over his features. “Goddamn it, sweetheart, I couldn’t _lose_ you.”

Tony was at Steve’s side then, hands resting loosely on the arm of the hospital bed. He could see the tears glistening in Steve’s eyes, making his own heart ache. In only three breaths, all his anger at Steve had melted away from his shoulders. When his boyfriend reached out to grab hold of his hand, Tony flexed to intertwine their fingers together, caressing a thumb over his bruised knuckles.

Brown eyes searched blue ones, seeing the raw emotions swimming in the vastness of the ocean. A small smile tugged at the corners of Tony’s mouth. Attempting to lighten the mood, he said, “Is this payback for when I didn’t call you about the Mandarin blowing up my house?”

Steve let out a spluttering chuckle, caught slightly off-guard. “I didn’t think of that, but… would you be mad if I still said ‘yes’?”

Tony started to laugh. He reached up to cup Steve’s face, consciously avoiding the stitches and the darker bruise surrounding his eye. Leaning forward, Tony left small, feather-light kisses across his forehead, his brow, his cheeks, his chin, until he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Steve’s busted lip.

Steve craned his neck to press his mouth against Tony’s once more before he could fully pull away. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” he muttered against his lips. His fingers brushed through Tony’s hair comfortingly – and for a moment, Tony forgot that _he_ should be the one doing the comforting.

Tony breathed him in, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

~*~*~*~

Steve loved Tony. He loved him so much that he could write sonnets about the way his eyes lit up every time he’d figure out the solution to a problem; the way his dark hair would start to curl whenever he’d let it grow out; the way he found any excuse to be touching Steve’s skin, always leaving behind a trail of fire in his wake.

Above all, Steve genuinely loved the way Tony fell apart around him, opening up so sweetly in bed. There were nights where the sex was fast and rough and carnal, but tonight, it was slow and languid and sensual. Tony was expressive in more ways than one, and Steve discovered a satisfying delight in listening to every sound and watching every facial expression that he made. Steve enjoyed pulling Tony apart, before piecing him back together; slowly, methodically, and then all at once.

Even blissed-out and fuzzy-headed with pleasure, Steve could never focus on anything else but Tony. It was the way he let out soft grunts under his breath, moaned sweet nothings against Steve’s skin, or cursed high in his throat every time Steve did something he particularly liked. It was the way he bit his lip while Steve opened him up with his fingers, stuck his tongue out every time he came, or craned his neck up so Steve could litter his skin with hickeys.

There was nothing Steve wanted more than to memorize it all, to catalogue everything Tony gave him. (There was also something else that made Steve feel the possessive streak in him flare up, seeing the marks he left all over Tony’s skin.)

Steve’s hips stuttered when Tony clenched around his length, back arching off the bed with hands grasping at Steve’s shoulders. Dipping his head down, Steve captured Tony in a kiss, biting his lips red and licking into his mouth as the waves of pleasure crested. They stayed together in a tight embrace, Steve continuing to fuck into Tony with slow, shallow thrusts, exchanging kisses until their lungs were filled with the smell of each other.

Like tasting an ocean after a storm, Steve tasted himself on Tony’s tongue, heady and lingering. Unlike the salty waters of the sea, Tony had never taken anything away from him; in fact, he amplified everything that he touched. And because of it, Steve knew that Tony had him hook, line, and sinker.

Steve loved Tony, and the soft look of adoration in his eyes told him that Tony loved him, too.

~*~*~*~

Nothing was ever boring when it came to Steve and Tony’s lives. Steve might have moved into the penthouse of Avengers Tower, and Tony might be running Stark Industries from only twelve floors below, but the two of them hardly saw each other. One dove head-first into looking for the Winter Soldier, while the other battled allegations of his company’s non-existent connections with HYDRA.

Although they could only steal a few moments together during the day, they made the most of it when they _were_ together. They shared showers and nightly pillow talks, which both men looked forward to at the end of every day. When Steve and Sam started jetting off in search of Bucky Barnes, those little pockets of intimacy became smaller. The only things that didn’t change were the kisses. Whether coming or going, they were given without thinking twice, and its warmed Tony’s heart every single time. Steve never failed to punctuate their days of separation with them.

“I’ll call you when we land,” Steve had promised once, pressing a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips before boarding the Quinjet. Tony stayed out on the platform to watch them take off.

“Welcome home, honey,” Tony had greeted another time when he ran into Steve in the elevator. Tony settled against his warmth, contentment spreading through his limbs as he leaned his head up for a peck on the lips.

It was late at night once when Steve returned from being gone for three weeks. “Hey, Tones, it’s just me,” Steve had whispered as he climbed into bed with Tony, wrapping him in an embrace and kissing his forehead. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

The following morning, Tony was rushing to make a board meeting when he passed Steve in their kitchen. “Let’s order-in tonight?” he had offered, perusing the refrigerator for the Tupperware of lunch that Steve always prepared for him.

“That place on Seventh?” Steve responded, angling his head to watch Tony appreciatively.

“Oh, yes, the usual,” Tony said, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s temple as he walked by. He made it a few steps before stopping abruptly, pivoting on his heels. “Ah. Nearly forgot.”

Steve raised a brow, lifting his coffee mug slightly as he asked, “Nearly forgot wh – ?” The question was cut off by a heated kiss, hungry and open-mouthed, with Tony tugging harshly on the front of his shirt.

“Love you,” Tony sighed against Steve’s mouth, the smile on his face wide and content.

Steve cheekily dismissed him, “Love you too. Don’t give Pepper a hard time now.”

“No promises!” Tony shouted over his shoulder. He threw a smirk in his boyfriend’s direction, catching the subtle shake of his head.

~*~*~*~

Not a lot of people knew Tony loved holidays. Hell, if Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think _Tony_ probably didn’t even know Tony loved holidays. It had been incredibly subtle the first couple of years, when he would nonchalantly leave presents for the team on Thanksgiving and Christmas, and even Valentine’s once. Steve realized the showering of gifts was really just how Tony showed his appreciation.

The only downside of Tony loving holidays, especially Christmas, was that he forced Steve to wear embarrassingly ugly sweaters every year. Sweaters that were undoubtedly eye sores and made his skin itch like a motherf –

“Stop scratching,” Tony huffed, lightly smacking Steve’s hand away when he came to his side. “Super-soldier healing or not, you’ll just irritate your skin.”

Steve threw him a grimace, grumbling, “It’s the damn sweater. I can’t take my mind off of how much it itches.”

From the corner of his eye, Steve noticed Tony raise an arm above them. He tilted his chin up, following the slope of Tony’s limb and stopping at the bit of foliage hanging between his fingertips. A small smile started to paint itself across Steve’s lips.

“Oh! Huh. Mistletoe. I wonder who put that there,” Tony said sarcastically, biting back a cheeky grin. He turned to Steve, shrugging dramatically.

“Yeah, quite the mystery,” Steve replied, rolling his eyes as he pulled Tony closer by the front of his sweater.

“Oh, well. Rules are rules, Steven.”

Their smiles were so broad that their kiss became more teeth than lip. But then Tony swiped his tongue across the seam of Steve’s lips, lifting his hands to card through Steve’s hair just how he liked. Their tongues brushed against one another as their kisses deepened significantly. Neither Steve nor Tony seemed to mind the obnoxious wolf whistles and cheers coming from their teammates.

He had to give it to Tony: he knew just how to distract Steve from stupidly itchy sweaters.

~*~*~*~

Tony still couldn’t wrap his mind around how Thor’s magic hammer shtick worked – it had to be some weird fingerprint technology embedded; there was no other explanation. Not for anyone’s lack of trying, but no one had been able to nudge the stupid thing sitting on the coffee table, not even him and Rhodey, who’d grabbed a gauntlet each to try and get some lift.

The only saving grace came by way of Steve attempting to grab Mjolnir. Watching the muscles of Steve’s exposed forearms flex as he strained against the hammer triggered something in Tony’s hindbrain, and all of his blood decided to dart south. Steve wasn’t able to move it, obviously, but Tony was more focused on the stirring inside his pants to care.

When Steve took his seat between Tony and Thor once again, he wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist and all but manhandled him onto his lap. Tony leaned into the warmth of Steve’s chest, unable to hold back the smile on his face when a kiss was placed to the back of his head.

“Not worthy of ruling Asgard either, I see,” Tony teased, angling his neck to be able to look at Steve over his shoulder.

“Hmm, unfortunately not,” Steve replied, moving to press his lips against Tony’s. “But I think I’m happy with just being worthy of _you_.”

Cho and Hill aww-ed in unison while Rhodey gagged and snorted out, “You guys are _disgusting_.”

Tony pointedly kissed Steve again and raised a hand to throw a bird up in Rhodey’s direction.

~*~*~*~

“Tony, someone’s going to come looking for us,” Steve pointed out, only half-resisting as Tony dragged him to the Bartons’ barn house.

“Five minutes,” Tony said, pulling the smaller barn door open. “An argument can be made for ten.”

Steve ducked and followed him into the musty structure, letting out a quiet _oof_ as Tony unexpectedly shoved him against the sitting tractor. Tony licked a wet stripe up the column of Steve’s throat immediately, shifting back down to leave searing, open-mouthed kisses across his jaw and under his ear.

“Do you know how fucking _hot_ that was?” he purred, lips grazing the shell of Steve’s ear. “You splitting that log with your _bare hands_? God, I want to blow you so bad. Want to suck your brains right out of your dick.”

“Holy _shit_ …”

Steve’s hands found purchase on Tony’s hips, and he pulled him in. Their kiss was harsh, lacking their usual finesse, just clashing teeth and wandering hands and –

The sound of someone clearing their throat from the far end of the barn caused the two of them to jump apart. Steve instinctively stepped in front of Tony, reaching his arm back to cover his boyfriend. The tension in Steve’s shoulders didn’t go away until Nick Fury stepped out from the shadows.

“Now, this would be the time I’d usually tell you two rabbits to go find a room but being as it were…” Fury’s brows rose up to his forehead.

From the scorching heat creeping up his neck, Steve knew his face had gone completely red. His teeth clicked when he clenched them together. “Fury, I – we didn’t think anyone was –”

“Maria Hill called you, didn’t she?” Tony huffed indignantly, almost unsurprised to see their unexpected guest. “Was she ever _not_ working for you?”

“Tony,” Steve pressed, throwing him a look.

“Look, Nick, it’s been a really long day,” he said to Fury, ignoring Steve’s subtle plea, “like Eugene O’Neill long, so how’s about we skip to the part where you excuse us for another five –”

“Tony!” Steve groaned, covering his face with both hands.

~*~*~*~

Tony was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Fighting off Ultron’s minions and ferrying the citizens of Sokovia into the repaired Helicarrier had taken more of a toll on him than he first realized. It wasn’t until the falling city had come raining down around him did Tony feel the fatigue slowly seeping into his bones.

The first thing Tony did when he landed on the Helicarrier was strip away the Iron Man armor. It was like he couldn’t get out of the damn thing quick enough. He was hurting somewhere in his ribs and limped a bit as he walked through the corridors, but he shoved that to the back of his mind because it didn’t matter. What mattered was Steve. He had to find Steve.

Tony came across him on the main deck, speaking with Maria Hill and Cameron Klein about prioritizing medevacs and providing food for the rescued people on board. With Steve facing away from him, Tony could see that the iconic red, white, and blue suit was dirtied by ash, mud, and what Tony hoped _wasn’t_ Steve’s own blood.

Hill’s eyes had flickered to him over Steve’s shoulder, who stopped mid-sentence to turn around to see who she was looking at. The appearance of steely consternation melted away into absolute relief when his gaze fell upon Tony’s form.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve was in front of him in only four strides, hands busying around Tony’s face and shoulders to check him over briefly before pulling him into a tight hug and close-mouthed kiss.

Tony’s breath got knocked right out of him. He winced inwardly when a quiet groan escaped him, and even though he wished Steve would ignore it, he knew that his boyfriend’s super hearing had picked it up.

Steve pulled away, gasping, “Fuck – I’m sorry –”

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to reassure Steve, reaching up to smooth the worry out of his brows. “I promise, I’m fine.”

Steve planted a firm kiss to Tony’s temple after brushing back some rogue strands of hair. “Go to medical. Right now.”

“Honey, c’mon, I can help!”

“Now, Tony.”

“Steve –”

“There better _not_ be a repeat of last time, or so help me God…”

It took Tony an embarrassingly long time to remember what exactly the ‘last time’ was that Steve was referring to. Then, it dawned on him: the first time they’d kissed (officially or unofficially, they still bickered about it sometimes) was when Steve had caught Tony sneaking away from the medical floor of SHIELD’s New York headquarters.

Steve frowned slightly, sighing, “Tony…”

“Medical, yup,” Tony responded with a bright grin, leaning up on his toes to leave another wet smack onto Steve’s lips.

~*~*~*~

“…Happy birthday, dear Captain, happy birthday to you!”

Steve’s grin was so wide by the time the Avengers finished singing in mismatched harmonies that Tony thought his cheeks were going to burst. (After everything that went down in Sokovia, and Bruce going AWOL, it was a welcome change of mood in the New Avengers Facility.) His boyfriend shook his head in amusement, looking down at the round red-white-and-blue cake that resembled the iconic Captain America shield, and blew out the ‘97’ on top of it.

“I hate all of you,” Steve said in jest, picking up the wax candle with his fingers and setting it aside.

“Not yet you don’t,” Sam replied ominously.

Between one moment and the next, he shoved Steve’s face directly in the middle of the cake. There was a chorus of surprised gasps and amazed cackles, Tony being one of them. Steve sputtered as he pushed himself to his feet, angling forward to keep the frosting from dripping onto his clothes.

“ _Sam_ ,” he growled, wiping the mess from his eyes.

Before Steve could decide whether or not he was going to throw his friend into a chokehold, Tony pulled him forward by the front of his shirt. He licked at the buttercream frosting on Steve’s cheek before dragging his tongue across the seam of his lips, drawing him into a kiss.

They ignored the wolf whistles and fake gagging from the people around them, as they always did. Tony pulled away from Steve with a broad smile, frosting staining his own cheeks and lips as he chuckled, “Happy birthday, honey.”

~*~*~*~

Steve almost never minded listening to Tony talk. He loved his boyfriend’s voice – it became one of the things he found comfort in over the years – but if he had to hear another half-hour-long rant about Secretary Ross breathing down their necks or the tech upgrades that he couldn’t even hope to understand, Steve was going to _lose his shit_.

When Tony started on again about how “it would be _so_ satisfying to smack that ugly rat ‘stache off his lip,” Steve got up from his seat on the SI private jet and walked right up to the brunet. He leaned down, grasping Tony’s face in one hand, and crushed his lips onto his.

It took a couple of seconds before Tony returned the kiss, a sound of resigned confusion coming from the back of his throat.

Steve pulled away with a smack, looking Tony directly in the eyes as he said in a firm tone, “Shut up.”

Tony made a face, a mix of shock and interest. “What’d I –?”

The words seemed to die on his tongue when Steve all but climbed into his lap, reached to lower the seat back, and licked into Tony’s mouth, which tasted of cookies and cream.

~*~*~*~

Couples fought. Normal couples fought. Even superhero couples fought.

Steve and Tony had had their fair share of fights over the years, and even though they always made up, sometimes their arguments weighed heavily on Steve long after. Perhaps it was only the latent insecurities prodding at his edges, but Steve would catch himself wondering why Tony bothered staying with him after everything.

Things had already turned tense between them, considering Howard and Maria’s death anniversary was fast approaching. Tony had his own way of coping, and Steve knew that. He wasn’t sure what it was, whether it was because Tony revealed how much he missed his mother or how much indifference he felt towards his father. It managed to pull at the guilt that Steve had tried to hide away, ever since he had started digging into the Winter Soldier’s (and in essence, Bucky’s) activities over the last seventy years.

Steve loved Tony, and he thought maybe keeping the fact that his best friend had been brainwashed to kill Howard and Maria was a kindness to him, sparing him in some way. When he and Tony got into a shouting match regarding that little piece of information, Steve began to wonder if maybe he was just sparing _himself_.

There were tears glistening in Tony’s eyes as he looked at Steve. His voice was low when he asked, “How long have you known?”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to rest a hand on the other man’s arm. “Tony, it’s not that easy to –”

“Don’t you dare bullshit me, Rogers!” Tony frowned, glaring at him with such a seething anger that it nearly broke him to see it. “How _long_?”

“It took me a while to…” Steve felt tears prick his own eyes as he looked at Tony, at the way his shoulders were squared, at the way the pain was clear in his eyes. Letting go of a shuddering breath, he revealed, “A year. Less.”

“Jesus _fuck_ , Steve!” Tony ripped his arm away from his grasp, taking a step back. Steve took one look at him and saw the _betrayal_ that washed over his features.

“But I didn’t – I hadn’t known it was him –”

“I don’t care,” Tony said evenly, his words laced with vitriol. “He killed my _mom_.”

Steve reached out to him in an aborted motion, reeling back when Tony hissed out a venomous “Don’t _fucking_ touch me.”

They didn’t sleep in the same bed that night. Or the next. It wasn’t until the third night when Tony asked Steve if he was coming to bed that they’d even been within the same space.

Despite the close proximity, it still felt like they were a thousand miles apart. They both had their backs to each other, but Steve couldn’t help reaching his hand around, resting it in the empty space between them. Steve thought Tony had fallen asleep, but he eventually felt fingertips brush against his. Soon enough, Tony was slotting his fingers between Steve’s.

Relief flooded through him. Steve inhaled sharply, squeezing his hand. Tony shifted in bed, and then his face was pressed against Steve’s back, his arm going around him in a hug. “I’m sorry,” Steve said wetly, only just realizing that hot tears had started running sideways on his face.

There was a tense silence before: “I talked to Nat, the other day. She… yeah.” A sigh. Tony’s breath was hot against Steve’s neck. “Listen, I forgive you. I just… A _year_ , Steve. You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I thought I was protecting you from it… you know, the truth. The extra pain. But I, uh, I wasn’t sure how I’d…”

“I might’ve done the same, if it was Rhodey. Who knows.” Tony began to pet at Steve’s hip, caressing his side. The smirk he wore was clear in his voice as he said, “It goes both ways; I protect you from things too. Like, catching you whenever you fall. Hiding the fact that your uniform does _nothing_ for your ass.”

Steve stifled a laugh, wiping the wetness from his cheeks with the back of his hand. Leave it to Tony to crack a joke if only to test the waters.

Even after being angry and hurt, Tony reminded Steve that he continued to stay _because_ of everything. Every laugh, every kiss, every song sung off-key in the shower, every lazy-morning cuddle in bed, every near-death injury on missions, every slammed door, every heated argument – every memory, both good and bad. Tony loved Steve, and Steve loved him too. Win or lose, they would always do that together, and sometimes that was enough.

They moved to face each other in the darkness of their room, nothing but the moonlight filtering in from the penthouse windows. His hands curled around Tony’s shoulders to hold him close. Tony’s fingers were light as they carded through Steve’s hair. Steve found Tony’s eyes in the dark, searching, and they shared a tentative kiss.

Soft, unsure, but forgiving.

**Author's Note:**

> [Reblog the wonderful manip that HT made, here!!!](https://ralsbecket.tumblr.com/post/641761741765820416/hundredthousands-art-another-romance-novel)
> 
> Also, please [check out my linktree for tumblr, discord, and other socials!](https://linktr.ee/ralsbecket)


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